My Beloved Enemy
by Kohaku the Warrior
Summary: Jackal comes across Lora who’s a ghost only she doesn’t believe she is. A quirky little adventure ensues including them running from Korr, Lora trying to find her grave, seek revenge on her killer and Jackal trying to rape her the whole time! Go figure.
1. Chapter 1

**My Beloved Enemy**

**_Book One: A Time to Live and a Time to Die_**

**Chapter One**

**The Realms of Darkness **

_**Disclaimer**: I don't own Denny's… no wait that's not right… I don't own 13 Ghosts, yeah let's go with that. _

_**Summery** (Book One): Jackal comes across Lora who's recently died. Denying that she's deceased, she sets off to find her grave. Jackal follows (with other things in mind) yet it doesn't seem like he can get a chance to rape her while being hunted down by a huge murdering ghost named Korr (who's orders are to bring her back to the circus). Much annoyance follows. YAY!_

_**Rating**: R. Warning- there shall be a lemon (or two, heh) in later, er, books. _

Gray clouds hovered above like a massive sheet of cotton, hanging vacantly above the underlying earth below. Even now as the restless spirit wandered aimlessly through the woods the world around him kept motionless, except the falling snow. Nothing stirred in his wake, to do so would mean one would meet a most grizzly death.

Being the free spirit he was, the phantom drifted without direction or purpose, speaking to no one and keeping to himself. His heart was as cold as the chill in the air, and the cold of death kept the snow from melting as it hit his skin. White specks caught in his blackened hair, his yellow eyes peering into the dimness of the twilight hour- nothing kept him moving and nothing could get in his way. He existed with no reason or cause- he just _was_.

Most of the others from 'the incident' had stayed together for safety and comfort, he hadn't wanted the responsibility, nor had he the patience, to keep in the close-knit group. So as soon as they were free he took his leave, not that it mattered, it wasn't as if he owed them anything anyways. Life, or in his case _death_, was easier when all one had to worry about was oneself.

He _had_ played with the idea of haunting his old home, the Borehamwood Asylum, but the idea of returning not only brought painful memories, but frightened him beyond belief. To return to a place where there was so much anguish and suffering was a new torture all its own, and he just couldn't bring himself to it. And so he lingered, wandering from place to place, knowing that staying long would only cause him to be forced from his new home either by exorcism or another ghost.

As night approached it would've been wise to find a place to stay the night. Though the poltergeist was rather formidable, there were others much more dangerous than he, especially during hours of darkness. He walked on a while, somewhat searching, but began to fear that he'd never find a place to rest. Finding a place to sit, he allowed himself to rest at the top of a very large hill, if only but a moment. It was quiet and peaceful, the icy breeze nothing but a hushed whisper.

His eyes soon caught something of interest that lay at the end of the winding path- a tent. To be more specific, a _circus_ tent. He figured it'd be as good a place as any and forced himself up again, though his legs protested- sore and aching. As he drew closer he became more earnest upon reaching his destination, longing for warmth and a place to linger for a while.

Reaching the tent he realized how weathered the banded tent was, the red faded from the sun and the beating of the rain while the white yellow with age. Tears and rips had been patched over the years, the large clefts and yawning chasms mingling together in a horrific fashion, the threads of the stitches becoming as teeth, looking as if one drew too close it would unquestionably leave you with a missing appendage or two. All in all, it wasn't the least bit becoming and the spook desired somewhere less _occupied_ for his resting place.

Without thinking he roamed into the next tent, it looking a bit more inviting, less weathered and cold. Perhaps it was a work of fate that brought him there, he couldn't really say, but as his eyes scanned the room they settled upon something very familiar. A hefty glass tank, silver words scrawled across its being, sat unyielding in the back of the tent. How harsh and cruel it looked, just as his prison had back at the glass mansion, yet it being in the wake of a dusty little carnival sideshow made it all the more dire for that who was sitting inside of it.

At first he could not recognize if she was of the living or dead, for she looked very much alive. The only thing that gave her away was her paled skin, and even that in its own was hauntingly beautiful. Her eyes were deep set and dark, contrasting his own yellow ones, yet they were softer than his as well, not harsh and determined. Her hair was lengthy and straight, it parted right down the middle and fell across her shoulders. The echo of footsteps rang in his ears, his eyes shifting from the girl to a man. He was relatively short, though lanky, with black, greased hair and a pair of light blue squinty eyes. He came off as a weasel of a man to say the least, but Jackal slunk back a bit, keeping himself well hid from either of the two in the room.

"Come on, _come on_!" he rapped madly on the glass with his knuckles. His voice was whiny and shrill, not to mention loud, which caused both ghosts to flinch slightly at the sound. "You're a stubborn little bitch, aren't you?" He paced in front of the tank like a wild animal, one of his hands balled up into a fist and pounding on the palm of his other hand, like the mallet of a judge. "What to do… what to do?" He quickly stopped in his tracks, groaning loudly he looked upwards, as if he was expecting an answer from God himself. Tearing off his glasses the man chucked them on the table near the tank, well… he tried to anyways, though his aim was off and they skidded across the floor, hitting the back of the tent. "You better attract some customers," he warned in a testy voice, storming out of the tent, "or I'll _really_ give them something to watch."

Two yellow eyes trailed up and down her body, them not leaving her for a moment while the man held his fit. It was his only way for comforting her, though he knew she didn't know he was there, perhaps she'd feel his eyes on her and not be so miserable. Perhaps she'd find a bit of hope in the fact that those eyes were never absent throughout the entire ordeal; that they would give her strength. But then, that was just his way of sympathizing. As he drew closer to her he picked up her natural womanly scent, along with something else he couldn't put his finger on. It was enthralling nonetheless and he snuck up right behind her, laying low for the time. It was no matter because it appeared that she'd already picked up on his presents.

Two brown eyes met with two yellow ones, hers growing in either awe or shock, he wasn't sure. They traveled along his face, the scars and burns… the _cage_. The thought that she could very well be terrified into a sate of shock entered his mind, and he toyed with the idea a moment and let it pass as she opened her mouth to speak, only to bring it back when no words emitted from her mouth. Her eyes traveled down, tangling themselves in his cage, caressing his jacket, pricking at his claws. She didn't scream, she didn't even gasp, her eyes just moved across his entire being in what seemed to be one eased motion. A smile played on his lips as her eyes came back to meet his. He cocked an eyebrow and she mimicked him, her eyes becoming amused with his behavior.

"Are you gonna say something or just stare at me?" she asked finally. It wasn't playful the way she asked, but something he hadn't heard in a tone before. It sounded like she was yielding a friendly gesture, like extending ones hand or smiling. Yet no smile had caressed her face, at least, not to his knowledge. "Well?"

"_Well_?" he repeated and walked to the front of the tank, looking it over carefully. She seemed relived that he could actually speak -she'd wondered for a moment if perhaps he was unable seeing that he just looked at her. He seemed to have lost all interest in her for the moment, his eyes glued to the tank she was confined to. He yawned, his eyes closing and his fangs gleaming from the saliva that clung to them. It seemed to have started a chain reaction because she yawned as well, then he once more. He smirked, finding this game foolish he forced himself to suppress the yawn.

"What exactly are you?" her voice held question and bid him for his attention. Both eyes snapped up, grabbing a harsh hold of her own. A low growl emitted from his throat, his eyes set ablaze by the question. Yes, he knew he didn't hold the charm he once had when he was alive, but that didn't mean he needed to be reminded of it. Truly, this girl could not be so _dense_ as to ask him what he was. Wasn't it obvious? Did she believe he was some sort of alien or demon perhaps? Either way, it was clear he wasn't happy. "I didn't mean to offend you," she started but it didn't seem he heard a single thing she said. Her words trailed off into nothingness, her eyes shifting away from his gaze.

"What do you _mean_" his voice was harsh, "by asking what I am?"

"You just," she hesitated, "don't look human, is all." She quickly learned that this was the wrong answer and that she needed to reconcile and do it quickly at that. "I didn't-"

"Just because you died an easy death," he cut her off, "doesn't give you the right to insult others that meet an untimely demise." If she hadn't appeared confused before, she sure did now.

"Wait," she frowned, "huh? What the hell are you talking about?" Realization dawned on him and a playful smirk blanketed his face- she wasn't aware that she was dead yet, she must've died a few days before. A low chuckle worked its way out and he shook his head slowly, the cage hitting the back of his head. Amused he looked up, only to set her straight, rather blankly.

"**_You're dead_**," he gave a quirky grin, "deceased, departed, lifeless, you've kicked the bucket. You're pushing up daisies, dead as a doornail, a ghost, a spook, a soul that will wander the earth until you either cross over or kingdom comes." He leaned against the tank, his eyes narrowing. "Is any of this sinking in?" She blinked. "Dense are you, eh?"

"N-no," she shook her head, "but I don't look like _you_."

"For that," he gave a nod, "I am glad." She just looked at him. "You don't have to look like me to be dead, love. I've seen far better, and far worse."

"If I'm dead," she paused, "why aren't I in heaven or hell or… something?"

"Purgatory," he chuckled, "purgatory, my dear." Her eyes lowered to the floor for a moment. "Tell me, how does one such as yourself become caught it such a," he tapped the tank, "predicament?"

"I can't remember," she muttered, "I just woke up here." He paused a moment, his eyes darting across the room. She died in her sleep, that much was apparent, but she didn't seem sickly. His eyes became amused once more- quite likely she was murdered.

"One does not remember," he snickered, "because one does not **_wish_** to remember. Or at least that's what I'm told."

"Is there a reason you're here?" her voice was annoyed now and he chuckled again, jumping over and sitting on the table.

"Not really," he leaned back and forth, "I can see you're very busy sulking, I hope you don't mind that I linger a while."

"Aren't you supposed to be off, licking your balls or something?" she growled.

"I thought that was your job," he mused.

"Not even if you paid me," her chest fell as she heaved a sigh and leaned back against the glass.

"How about for your freedom?" he insisted, taking the keys from the table and dangling them from one of his claws. His smile widened greatly seeing the interest spark in her eyes. She was confused and trapped, so easily taken advantage of, he wouldn't even have to rape her, she'd come willingly. Her lips pressed together forming a thin line; he could almost see her debate with herself, arguing if she should give in and be free or stay locked away. It seemed that fate wouldn't let him have her for himself, just yet, because they were interrupted by a man with another pair of glasses and a very large ghost. Ryan cocked an eyebrow and the girl gulped.

"Shit," she breathed. "Uh, you think maybe you should hurry up with those keys?" Her eyes had become desperate and pleading, he grimaced. The opposing ghost was _huge_, bigger than Breaker, huskier than Hammer, deadlier than Jackal… His eyes were deep pits, blackened by some unknown force. If the girl thought Ryan wasn't human, there was no telling **_WHAT_** she thought this guy was. Jackal could see what was going on: the man wanted to attract costumers, what better than to see a young girl get raped repeatedly by something horrific and three times her size? If Ryan wanted her, he'd have to get her out **_now_**. In two quick movements Jackal had the tank door wide open and he took a firm grasp of the girl.

"Grab 'em!" the little man howled and the ghost obliged. No time to run physically, Jackal pulled the girl close to him, wrapping on arm around her waist.

"Hold on," he warned her and they both vanished, reappearing and disappearing several times in a variety of locations. When he finally stopped, he found his prize had either fainted or wasn't used to fazing, betting his money on the second one. It wasn't as if he could do anything now anyways, they were being tracked and he didn't have the time to have any fun. He sighed, wondering how exactly he got stuck rescuing some dense twit from the circus, who didn't even believe that she was really dead. She smiled faintly and her hand clutched his jacket tighter, her body only being supported by him and him alone. He picked her up and sighed. "You better be a good fuck," he grumbled, "or I'll…" he paused, he couldn't exactly kill her now could he? "Heh," he laughed faintly and they vanished again.

**Author's note: **Okay so this is my first 13 Ghosts FanFiction so bear with me, alright? Now Jackal isn't soft, its just things are gonna keep preventing him from raping her until its too late! you'll see. Now he **_is_** smart guys! I figure well… he has animal instincts _AND_ he kills people (heh, you know you love those criminal minds) so he should be smart… right? Oh shut up and just review.

-Peace out-


	2. Chapter 2

**My Beloved Enemy**

_**Book One: A Time to Live and a Time to Die**_

**Chapter Two**

**The Deal**

_**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. This message brought in part by: Juicy Juice, 100 juice for 100 kids **and** viewers like you. Thank you. _

Lora frowned- though she was still somewhat locked in slumber, she'd revived rather groggy and uncomfortably warm. She tried to shift her weight a little but something kept her from doing so. Being groggy as she was, the peace and blackness of sleep calling her back to its wake, she didn't pay it much mind.

_Such a strange dream, _she thought to herself, it blending into the hum of other thoughts and memories it all becoming one mass blur. It **_had_** been a strange dream, a nightmare really. She'd been cold as ice, if not more so, the entire dream, not to mention frightened and rather alone. Now that she thought about it, it had been quite possibly the worst dream she'd ever had. Something against her moved, slowly dragging her to consciousness.

Two brown eyes fluttered open, her brow scrunching together as she tried to force her mind to work properly. Her thoughts reeled because, as her vision cleared she grew more perplexed and confused with her surroundings. Her eyes padded across the deep emerald evergreen, moving around the makeshift den and snatching a glimpse of the blinding white snow laying outside the foyer. It moved again, whatever had drug her from the serenity of sleep, it shifted again, something wrapping tighter around her waist. Lora turned, her nose brushing against a very large rusty iron cage.

"Shit!" she hissed and made a mad dash to sit up, her head colliding with the dirt ceiling, "Ow!" The creature just smirked and let out a small chuckle, but did not open its eyes, nor loosen its grasp. Perhaps it was cruel of her to think of him as a creature rather than a man, which he was, but she could not help herself. A knotted black mess of hair mingled in with the rusted iron cage around his face, scars and cuts down his cheeks, his teeth sharp and yellow like canine fangs. He certainly didn't _look_ human. She pushed back some but he kept hold, her eyes narrowed angrily and she heaved a sigh. "Let go," her voice was thick and stern but he didn't move, nor did he speak – just lay there as if he slept. "Oh don't pull that bullshit," she jeered, "I know you're awake. Let go."

"Why would I do something stupid like that?" hilarity shown clearly on his face and he laughed again. He opened an eye to look at her, it was apparent she wasn't as amused as he was. He'd just have to change that now, wouldn't he?

"Let me go or I'll-" in one quick motion he pulled her directly on top of him so that she was forced down upon him by the roof of the den. He snickered and stretched a bit, her voice muffled against his neck. She was not pleased with the situation but he found this funny. She was a rather annoying girl- prissy, faultless, and apparently forgetful when it came to thanking those for rescuing her. That's what annoyed him, that and the face she considered him beneath her. He'd change that too, in a moment. He'd get her riled up first.

Seeing that screaming wasn't going to get her anywhere, Lora made an attempt to calm herself. Taking a few deep breathes she turned her head so that he may at least understand what she was saying. He laughed again, her hands loosening there grip from his jacket and her body becoming less tense.

"Would you **_please_**," her teeth were clenched, "get me off of you and let go." He grinned brashly and it broadened slightly as he arched his body upward, forcing her against him even more, every part of her stiffening and her face turning red in both anger and embarrassment.

"Oh," he lowered himself again, "**_now_** you want to be polite, hum? Right when I have you where I want you, you decide you'd like to form some manors?" She was **NOT** happy with where she was at. She was pressed up against places that she didn't even want to **_THINK_** about this _creature_ having, let alone her pelvic bone being pushed against it. Grimacing she heaved a sigh.

"I'm sorry," she started but he cut her off, pushing her off of him.

"No you're not," he scoffed a laugh, his eyes becoming angry, "you just say that because you think it's what I want to hear and I'll leave you be." She realized then that this… creature she was dealing with was very temperamental. He was easily angered, and was obviously ruled by his… lower half. She didn't seem overly afraid, weary maybe but not scared. She looked as if she was trying to figure him out, like she was trying to read him. "What are you gawking at?" he hissed.

"You don't like that on, do you?" her voice was barely above a whisper. He frowned, not understanding at first but she gingerly brushed her fingers across the cage.

"Why?" he eyed her dangerously.

"I could take it off if you want," she nodded slowly, "I'm sure you-"

"Be quiet," he hushed her, the pupils of his eyes widening, engulfing a great portion of his yellow eyes. She fell quiet and looked back at the entrance of the den, and soon heard the crunch of snow underfoot. She looked back at him in awe, amazed that he could have such excellent hearing. He put a finger to his lips, almost seductively, but then again, most of his motions were- perhaps he didn't even _realize_ it anymore. Two black eyes peered in through the entrance and Lora scrambled back away from it. She screamed as she was yanked backwards and reached out to grab anything in her wake. Which happened to be Ryan's cage. "Fuck!" he hissed, the back of the cage banging him in the back of the head. "Let go!"

"No!" she yowled, while the massive ghost tried to cart her body from the burrow. His claws dug into the sides of the den, him pulling back when he could and his eyes burning holes into her own.

"Damnit bitch, let go!" he growled but she closed her eyes and kept her grasp firmly on the bars, though he could see even now that they were cutting into her flesh.

"He'll kill me!" she insisted and the creature snapped at her heels.

"You're already dead!" he growled at her, "now let go of me!"

"Do that thing you did the last time," she whined, her eyes brimming with tears as they were slowly dragged forward.

"Yeah," he laughed, "that'd do a lot of good. I'd just faze him too. He's touching you." He clawed his way back, one of his nails breaking completely off and blood seeping from the wound. "Great."

"Help me," her hands loosened there grip on the cage and her eyes became panicked. He'd seen many horrified eyes in his time, all of them because of him- but never had someone been pleading for his help, that he was the one to relieve that terror. The pain shooting up his claws now forgotten he grimaced and he dug his nails firmer into the surrounding soil.

"Grab hold of my neck," a low growl emitted from his throat. When she hesitated he snarled at her to hurry up and she quickly obeyed. As her arms wrapped firmly around his neck and her body tried to enfold itself around him as well as possible, he found a small sense of irony. Moments before she was trying to scramble away from him, and now she was fighting to stay attached. Damn fickle women. The creature pulled again, drawing them closer to the entrance. Ryan let go of the side of the walls and slashed violently at the attacking creature, his remaining claws digging into soft flesh, blood splattered and the creature howled in fury and let go its grasp.

Quickly, Jackal hauled himself and the girl to the very back of the den. She buried her face in his chest as the creature looked menacingly back into the hole. It snarled and gnashed its teeth, Ryan just looked at it blankly, it was nothing but a scare tactic. Fear did something to people, makes them think funny, makes them disoriented. It paced outside of the den for a while, Lora whimpered.

"Hush," he calmed her some, "he can't get in here." It wasn't that he didn't like her scared, he lived on fear, it was something he enjoyed, but she was just so damn pathetic. She gripped hold of his jacket like she wanted to crawl into his very being and hide there. Though he'd admit, some huge creature that **_HE_** couldn't even beat, wanting to take you back to a dingy circus ground so people could pay good money to see you get raped by some demonic looking clown was _slightly_ unnerving. Hell, he figured that if given the choice between that and himself taking her to some remote location and fucking her _there_, and then letting her go, he'd take himself over the demon clown any day.

"Thank you," she whispered, her body shaking yet. He nodded and then inspected his nail.

"Fuck," he grumbled softly and she looked from him to the now absent nail.

"Lemme see that," she took hold of his hand and brought it closer to her face. The pain immediately stopped and slowly a small black nail started to emerge from the fold of his skin. He flinched and pulled back, as did she. "How'd you do that?"

"I didn't," he blinked, "you did."

"Me?" she shook her head, "I don't know how to… I don't even know what the hell that was!" He looked at the half grown nail and held his hand out to her again.

"Do it again," he eyed her.

"I don't-" she started but he growled at her. "Okay… **_sheesh_**." Taking hold of his hand it started to grow again until it was as long as the rest.

"You healed me," he muttered dryly.

"Now if only I could heal myself," she looked down at her own torn hands. Blood gushed through the lashes and Ryan watched as slowly the cuts fused together, leaving only blood on her hands. "Well then…" she wiped her hands on her jeans and looked up.

"We need a place to stay," he nodded slowly, "we can't just hide in here. He'll eventually figure out a way to get in." He paused and cocked an eyebrow. "If I faze again are you going to pass out?"

"I hope not," she grumbled. He took hold of her and they both vanished.

Lora stayed rather close as other ghosts drifted by. Ryan walked on, both glad she didn't pass out yet still hoping she'd had.

"_OoO_," a young blond haired woman giggled, "you got a new toy Ryan?" There was a large hole in her throat, as if it'd been torn out and Lora looked away. He didn't answer, only smirked and walked on. Lora turned around, starting to walk in the opposite direction but he grabbed her arm and kept forward. She grumbled under her breath but knew better than to run from him, it wouldn't do her any good and she'd come to terms with it. They entered into a small ragged house and he strode into the living area, practically tossing her onto the couch.

"Nobody touches her," he growled, "or I'll rip there throat out." With that he managed to crawl into the back bedroom and curl up in a bed. Lora tried to keep her eyes to the floor but was getting an array of unnerving smiles.

"Aw," the blond girl fazed in, "leave her alone you're scaring her." She sat on the couch and stroked Lora's hair. "What's yer name doll?"

"Lora," she said softly.

"I'm Kat," she gave a wink. One of the men sitting across the way (who looked as if he'd been hung) smirked at her and she paled (if that's even possible). "Oh don't worry you're pretty little head," she smiled, "you're under the protection of the Jackal."

"The _what_?" she blinked.

"The Jackal," she giggled only to receive another blank look. "Ryan silly."

"I-is that his name?" she asked.

"Well gosh," Kat laughed, "you're sure confused, ain't ya? Yeah, that fella you came in 'ere with, that's Ryan."

"The jackal…?" she nodded slowly.

"Uh huh," she humored her, "that's kinda like… a _nickname_."

"Has he fucked 'er yet?" the male crackled and the others howled with laughter.

"Cool your jets Ron!" she hissed and turned back to Lora with a smile. "That's Ron, he's a little…blunt."

"Is that why he saved me?" she whispered, "so he could…?"

"_Save you_?" Kat's smile widened, "I never heard of him going **_THAT_** far to screw someone, but yeah dolly, that's prolly why." Lora could see the muscles in Kat's throat move as she swallowed and she shivered. "You haven't been dead long, have you?"

"I…" he paused, "I'm not…" A hysterical laughter emanated from the rotting men sitting together across the room.

"Shut up!" she snapped at them but giggled some herself. "Dear," she sighed, "you're really confused, aren't you?" She didn't get an answer, only Lora walking out of the house and out into the snow.

Moments later Ryan stormed out of the house, following the scent of the young girl who'd managed to run away. Perhaps Kat shouldn't have woken him and explained that his current interest had walked out the front door.

"Damn her," he growled, "I swear when I get a hold of he I'm going to but some marks on her that she won't be able to heal!" He snarled again, inwardly promising himself to fuck her until she begged for forgiveness, to keep thrusting until she swore to do everything he asked. He smirked, anger forgotten for the time, what a fun idea. Looking up he found that she was standing right before him. He blinked. "Don't run and I won't-" she bolted. "Nevermind…" It wasn't a long chase really, she got a yard or two and he'd managed to tackle her, her body collapsing into the snow.

He turned her onto her back, her buttocks resting over his legs, and he took a firm hold of her by the neck. Taking one of the leather straps from his straightjacket he whipped it hard across her backside and she yowled. Roughly she tried to fight him off but he whipped her six more times before she managed to pull from his grasp, only to have him flip her over onto her front. She had tears down her face from the sting, but lord knows the kid needed a good whipping, probably never got one in her life.

"You're not my father," she growled.

"And you're a brat!" he hissed, "someone has to teach you, now don't they?"

"You have no right!" she raised her hand to slap him but he took a firm grip on it.

"I have _plenty_ of right," his voice was harsh and low, "and the only reason I don't fuck your brains out right now is because I'm tired. I want to sleep, but I have to track your happy ass down because you think it'd be fun to runaway."

"That's not why!" she pulled back, "I was scared."

"You're under **_my_** protection," he hissed.

"Not from you I'm not!" her words echoed loudly and they both fell into a silence. "I have to get home," she whispered, "I can't stay here I've got to get home…"

"You're dead," he shook his head, "why can't you understand that? Are you dense!"

"I'm not dead," she insisted and he sighed.

"I tell you what," his eyes softened some, "I'll get you back to you're home, and if you are indeed alive I'll leave you alone. If not, from then on, you belong to me and I do whatever I wish with you." Seeming convinced that she was indeed alive she nodded.

"But you can't hurt me until I have proof either way," she eyed him.

"I won't rape you," he nodded.

"Good," she smiled. He smiled too, only he was smiling because, there was other things he could do to her without it being _considered_ rape. No matter, soon enough she'd be his to do what he liked with, and there'd be no screaming or her running away. She'd take him in openly, whether she liked it or not.

**Author's note**: Was it okay? I hope so. I'm glad that you guys like it so much so far! Now, I know you might be all confused and I'll explain a bit now (and there'll be an explanation in later chapters). Lora heals because her mom owns a pharmacy and she used to work there, and in my story ghosts take on certain attributes from when they were alive (such as, Ryan has claws and animal-like senses, hence, the Jackal).

Lora is kinda a bitch at first. She's kinda prissy and mean to everyone at first (not to mention confused) which holds a lot of tension between her and Ryan.

Why Ryan isn't fucking her brains out. In this story you'll see Ryan is tired of people screaming and crying when he rapes them, he wants someone to take him because they _want_ him (or at the moment, make them pretend like they'll take him like they want him) which is his motivation for the first book. Book Two is going to involve Lora's killer and her home life, along with coping with being Ryan's. –giggles- Anyways, please review!

DeadlyMizzTrashy- No begging required my dear, I shall update just because you are gracious enough to give me such a wonderful review.


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